


the world will turn. we'll grow. we'll learn.

by soldierwitch



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 19:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6297034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>grief and love are a fatal mix for young hearts with walls too high to climb. you either let someone in or you push them away. sometimes you have to come apart to come back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the world will turn. we'll grow. we'll learn.

**Author's Note:**

> This baby was born from a conversation with my friend, Ikea. I was gushing about James Bay's album 'Chaos and Calm' and how four songs off the album (Move Together, Let it Go, If You Ever Want to be in Love, and Incomplete) gave me major modern!pk feels . I'd like to thank you Ikea for keeping my head in the game and being an excellent DJ. This three part fic is for you! Much love, sis! Title from [ Incomplete by James Bay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcn746NVJjg)
> 
>  
> 
> __
> 
> How we gonna move together? Just come closer  
> If we don't move together, just come closer  
> How we gonna breathe? How we gonna be together?  
> Just keeping the peace between the sheets
> 
>  
> 
> [Move Together - James Bay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91hfr1MPfj8)  
> 

The sound of the creaking door makes Peeta wince as he shuffles into his apartment. He’s drunk on tired, gently placing his keys in the bowl on the table and rubbing his red rimmed eyes. All he wants is his bed, sleep, and God willing Katniss tangled up in his sheets. 

He finds her on the couch instead, hair splayed across the armrest as she sleeps. Peeta reaches for the blanket on the back of the couch.

“Where have you been?”

He looks down at her and retracts his hand.

She’s not looking at him; she’s staring at the black screen of the tv.

“Out,” he says. A moment ago all he wanted was to curl around her and block out the world, but the cold in her voice reminds him of why he’d taken so long to come home after he got her text. The sight of her stretched out, dressed in an oversized shirt and nothing else made him forget the feel of her pushing him away and the slam of the front door.

“With Delly?”

“Johanna.”

She looks at him then. Snorts, “Figures,” and sits up.

Peeta rolls his eyes. Katniss has had a problem with Johanna since the two met. She claims it’s her attitude, but he knows better. It’s the way Johanna touches him. Where Katniss sees possessive; Peeta sees protective. Johanna bandaged cuts, nursed wounds, and concealed bruises for him. She helped him escape his mother’s house and showed him the meaning of family. She’s the first person he ever allowed himself to call home. Katniss would know that if he could ever find the words to explain.

“I’m not doing this tonight,” he says and leaves her in the living room.

She follows him to the bedroom. “Fine.”

Getting undressed is a quiet affair. Peeta shrugs on a shirt and loose pants. Wordlessly, he passes a pair to Katniss before crawling into bed.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” he says, concentrating on the dip in the mattress as she gets comfortable on her side, so that he can ignore the question running wild through his mind.

“Peeta.”

Their last argument plays in his head. 

_“I don’t need this right now,” Katniss says, grabbing her stuff and heading toward the door._

_“I only asked you what’s wrong.”_

_She whirls around. “And I told you nothing. I told you that when I got here. I said it when you asked over lunch and when you asked after lunch. I can’t seem to say it how you want, but I’ll say it again anyway. Nothing is wrong.”_

_“That’s bullshit, Kat,” he says, walking toward her. “You’ve barely looked at me since you got here. You picked at your food. You flinch every time I touch you. What am I supposed to think?”_

_“You’re supposed to think nothing because there’s nothing to think about because nothing is wrong.”_

_“Why won’t you just talk to me?”_

_She growls and her face twists. “There’s nothing to talk about. Why are you always asking me to talk?”_

_“Because you never do.”_

_Her laugh is ugly and brittle as it leaves her mouth. It makes his hair stand on end. “That’s rich coming from you.”_

_“What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_“Who were you talking to on the phone the other day?”_

_Peeta doesn’t say anything, but his jaw clenches and he hates that she can see that she has him._

_“Where did you disappear to last week?”_

_He says nothing._

_She nods. “I’m not the only one who doesn’t talk, Peeta, but maybe I’m the only one who sees when someone needs space.”_

_“Is that what you need? Space?”_

_“I don’t know, but I know what I don’t need,” she says before leaving with a slam of the front door._

“Peeta.”

He relents...“Did you get what you needed after you left?”...somewhat. 

“What?”

“Did you?”

“I thought you weren’t doing this tonight.”

"Just answer the question."

She doesn't, so he moves on.

“Where were you?”

Katniss lets the question hang between them before whispering, “I was with Gale.” When she rolls over, she pulls the covers high on her shoulder.

“What did you do,” he asks because he’s a masochist and he can’t seem to stop picking at this particular wound. If he pretends that it’s a paper cut, it doesn’t hurt as much. A scraped knee at worst.

“Peeta--”

“What did you do, Kat?” He hates the way his voice sounds small.

“We talked.”

 _What did you tell him that you couldn’t tell me?_ He swallows the thought with a soft clearing of his throat. 

“Like Jo and I talked?” Peeta turns on his side when he asks, facing toward her back. 

Katniss stiffens and then softens like his words were a surprising prick and not the blow he’d meant for her to feel.

He aims again. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to come home tonight.”

She stiffens once more, but doesn’t soften this time. Peeta can feel the breath she’s holding and its slow release as she whispers, “Neither was I.”

It’s hurt that makes him say, “Some of your stuff being here doesn’t make it your home, Katniss.” Her sharp gasp cements his resolve not to apology. _Good_ , he thinks. _Now you knows how it feels._

“You’re right,” she says and gets up, reaching for her rucksack.

Peeta lets her get as far as the bedroom door before he curses and calls her name. History is repeating itself. He doesn’t think he can handle her walking out again. He’s tired of watching her leave him. So, so tired.

Katniss doesn’t turn around when he approaches.

Peeta touches her wrist, lets his fingers brush against her pulse point. “Don’t go.”

“You said this wasn’t my home.”

“Only because you won’t let it be.”

She turns around and leans against the door. “I use the key you gave me. I sleep here most nights.”

“I know.”

“You’ve met my sister.”

“I know.”

Katniss looks at him like she’s searching for something, but Peeta doesn’t know what it is. All he knows is that he feels stripped bare. Unsettled and raw. Exposed. A bleeding heart beneath the knife.

“I don’t like the way you make me feel,” she says.

“How is that?”

“Vulnerable.”

“How would you like to feel?”

“Safe.”

Peeta doesn’t say that love isn’t safe. Or that he’s been in freefall since he met her. He just moves into her space, wraps his arms around her waist, and holds on.

Katniss’ rucksack drops from her hand with a thud.

He presses a kiss to her neck and then another and another. Each kiss a plea for her to let him in.

_Let me be the one you run to instead of the one you run from._

Peeta slides his hand beneath her shirt.

_Let me be the one who holds you. Loves you. Wants you._

When his palm brushes against her breast, Katniss moans.

_Let yourself need me the way that I need you._

Peeta’s lips replace his hand. His tongue licks her nipple before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently.

_Please._

Katniss’ head thunks against the door as her fingers thread through his hair. 

_Please._

He pulls her pants down and barely waits for her to kick them away before he’s lifting her up and pressing her back into the door.

_Please._

She whimpers his name as he works a hand between them, fingers rubbing against her panties, making her wetter with every pass over her clit. 

“Please.”

Peeta’s noticed that she can only say the word like this. Katniss doesn’t beg for anything, but she’ll plead for this. She’ll work her hand into his pants and stroke him through his underwear until he groans. She’ll push every barrier between them down and take him into her.

Once he thought he heard her whisper, “Show me,” but he was too scared to ask, “Show you what?” _Show you that you’re loved? How much you’re loved? Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything._

Katniss moans his name as he thrusts into her. He gives; she takes. 

She groans.

“Mmmm...What do you want, Kat?” 

He licks her lip.

She bites his.

“This. Ah. I want this.” Katniss repeats, “I want this,” twice before kissing his neck. 

Peeta wishes he had the courage to ask her what _this_ is. _Me? Us? What you’re feeling right now?_

He says, “I want this, too,” because _this_ to him is the feel of her around him. It’s her lips against his neck and it will be her laugh in the morning. _This_ to Peeta is her clothes thrown around his apartment, her spare bow in his closet, and the terrible pancakes she makes. “I want this, too, Kat.” _I want you. I want us._

“Peeta...you...want...mmm.” Katniss bites his neck and it sends him over the edge. 

“Shit.” Stars shine behind his lids as he moans her name.

Her walls contract around him as she flies apart. 

When they settle, he puts her down and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

Katniss nods, but doesn’t return the sentiment.

He lets it go, choosing instead to focus on her hands as they pull her shirt up and over her head and then do the same for him. She lets her panties slip slowly to the floor.

Katniss takes Peeta’s hand, waits for him to step out of the pool of his pants and underwear, and leads him back to bed.

They hold each other through the night and when Peeta wakes it’s to an empty apartment and a note: _I need time, Peeta._

\-----

Peeta’s kitchen has become a makeshift interrogation room with breakfast options. To him this _talk_ is ridiculous. To Johanna it is very much the opposite. She'd waltzed in, Delly not far behind, as he was brushing his teeth with only a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“First, get dressed, princess,” she’d said on her way to the kitchen. “You're blinding us. Second, we need to talk. You have any decent cereal in this joint?”

“Good morning to you, too,” he’d said and then five minutes later found himself at the other end of Johanna’s scrutiny, pleasantries be damned. 

“So, she ran again,” she says between bites of her Apple Jacks.

Peeta despises how her words are a statement not a question. A testament to the frequency of these conversations. Which in total has been thrice, but as Johanna has stated, “That’s twice too many, buttercup.”

“No,” he says and it sounds false to even his ears, but he pushes forward. “She just needs time.”

Johanna scoffs. “She needs a swift kick in the ass. That’s what she needs.”

“Jo, stop it,” Delly says before turning to Peeta with her concerned blue eyes. “How long has it been, Peet?”

“Two days.”

“Is that unusual for her?”

“No.”

Johanna raises a brow. “So, little miss, is prone to going m.i.a.? Are you serious, Peeta?”

“She left a note.”

“Sorry ass excuse for a--” Johanna grumbles before receiving a glare from Delly. She sighs and places a hand over Peeta’s. “I’m just saying you deserve better, hon. That’s all.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Peeta--”

He shakes his head and moves his hand from under hers. “This one’s on me, okay,” he says and makes another attempt at getting Johanna to see Katniss’ side of things. “I pushed too hard.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting Katniss to be honest with you,” Delly says and takes a sip of her tea.

“She hasn’t been dishonest with me, Delly,” he says with more bite than he intended. 

Delly sets her cup down and sighs. “I know that. I’m not saying she’s been lying to you, Peeta.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying--”

“She’s saying that if Katniss still won’t open up to you then maybe she’s never going to.” Johanna gets up and puts her cereal bowl in the sink, ignoring Delly’s motions for her to stop talking. “Maybe you guys don’t work.”

“We work.”

Peeta turns away from the look in Johanna’s eyes. It’s not pity, but it’s a damn sight close and he neither wants nor needs that from her. “We do,” he says.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Jo.” He clenches his fists as he glares at the table.

“Actually, I do know wha--”

The sound of a key jiggling in the lock of the door interrupts Johanna. It’s quickly followed by the telltale creak of the front door, its gentle close, and soft footsteps on the hardwood floor of the apartment.

“Peeta?”

His heart leaps at her voice. “In the kitchen,” he says while shaking his head at Johanna who looks ready to give Katniss a piece of her mind. He returns Delly’s tentative smile and stands up from the table.

When Katniss rounds the corner, it’s with her head down as she rummages through her messenger bag. “Hey, I’ve got that mix Finn promised to make you. He said he’s sorry for the wait.”

“I don’t think Finnick’s the one who needs to be apologizing, Katniss.”

She looks up then taking in the sight of a sheepish looking Peeta, a pleasant Delly, and a stone faced Johanna.

Johanna chucks her chin at the bouquet of sunflowers in Katniss’ hand. “Nice flowers. Who they from?”

Katniss says, “They're aren't from anyone” at the same time Peeta says, “They're for me.”

Peeta steps forward into Katniss space and softly says, “Hey.”

She drags her eyes away from Johanna who is still steadily glaring at her. “Hi,” she says, pushing a loose hair behind her ear and thrusting the bouquet into his hands. “I was thinking of you.”

“I was thinking about you, too.”

Johanna grumbles, “She should have thought to call,” prompting Delly to clear her throat and clap her hands together.

“Well, I think it's about time we got out your hair, Peeta,” she says. “Come on, Jo.”

As Delly heads out the kitchen she stops to give Peeta a side hug promising to call him later and smiles at Katniss. “It was nice seeing you.”

Johanna reluctantly follows her lead muttering, “She didn't even speak to you. How was it nice seeing her?” as she steps away from the sink she’s been leaning against.

Delly sighs. There's tension in her brow as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jo,” she says stepping past Katniss to leave. “Can we please just go?” 

“Fine.” Johanna stops to kiss Peeta on the cheek noisily. “Love ya.”

He says, “Too,” even though he's annoyed with her which Johanna is very much aware of judging by the smirk perched on her lips.

“More,” she replies with a ruffle of his hair before shifting her attention to Katniss. “See you later, kitty cat.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Katniss says with a curl to her lips and irritation in her voice.

“And I told you to quit playing games. Unfortunately, we’re both shit out of luck.”

“Johanna,” Peeta with a warning in his tone.

“Down, boy,” she says heading out the room. “I already said my piece. As always the door is wide open. Check ya later.”

Katniss waits until the front door clicks close to speak. “I told you she doesn't like me,” she says sidestepping Peeta to place her bag on the table.

“She’s just protective.”

Katniss hums noncommittally and turns to face him.

“So, what should I be apologizing for?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, Peeta, what was she talking about?”

He sighs, wiping a hand down his face. “You leaving me again.”

“I left a note; I didn't leave you,” Katniss says defensively.

“I know.”

“And even if I did, it's none of her damn business.”

“None of her--,” Peeta cuts himself off with a mirthless laugh. “You know what, no. I'm not going to let you pick a fight with me over something Johanna said.”

Katniss crosses her arms. “I'm not picking a fight.”

“Yes, you are.”

He can see that she's trying to correct her posture, loosen the tension in her arms, and dampen the curl of a sneer attempting to make its way on her lips, but she's failing. “No, I'm not.”

“Okay,” Peeta says so they can move on to what's she's been up to and where she sees them going from here, but they don't get that far.

Katniss snaps. “Fine. Don’t believe me.” She grabs her bag and heads past Peeta into the living room.

“So, what,” Peeta says turning to follow her into the room. “Are you just going to leave again?” He hates that he’s giving her the fight she wants, but once again Katniss looks ready to take flight and maybe never come back. He’s tired of this revolving door thing she’s got going on. One minute she’s happy to see him, and then the next she’s biting his head off about something that has nothing to do with him.

“No.”

“You sure about that,” he asks gesturing to the keys in her hand.

She sighs and fiddles with them. “It’s a habit.”

“I know. One that I’m getting sick of.” 

“Well, I’m sick of the way Johanna speaks to me as if I’m some fuck up who’s not worth your time.”

Peeta laughs. “Oh, so the same way Gale speaks to me then.”

A spark flares in Katniss’ eyes at his words. Peeta wishes he could look away from the way her spine straightens and her fist tightens around her keys, but he can’t. She’s protective and pissed over a man who told him that he’s just a distraction. 

“Look, I’m doing you a favor by telling you this,” Gale had said. “She doesn’t see you when she looks at you. All she sees is something she lost and trying to find again. This is only going to end one way and it ain’t happy. Let her go, man, otherwise you’ll end up hurting each other and I don’t want that for her.” 

Peeta had heard what he wasn’t saying. Katniss hadn’t lost something, she’d lost someone and she was using him as a replacement. A placeholder for someone she couldn’t have. 

“How about you tell me something, Katniss. How about you tell me what Gale meant when he called me a time out.”

“Gale never said--”

“Am I temporary to you?”

His question gives her pause. “What,” she asks.

“Am I temporary to you?”

Her shoulders fall. Sadness slowly replaces the anger in her eyes as the line of her body wilts. “How can you ask me that?”

“You still haven’t answered me, Katniss,” Peeta says looking down at the flowers in his hand. With a shake of his head, he places the bouquet on the coffee table.

“Have I ever treated you like you’re temporary?”

Tears prick Peeta’s eyes as thinks of every time she slammed his door and left him to wonder and worry about her for days. “That’s not an answer either.”

Katniss growls wiping furiously at her eyes. Tears have begun to track down her cheeks. “What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say you meant it when you told me you love me,” he says. His voice cracks on the last ‘me’ and it’s that more than the tears that makes him feel weak in front of her. 

She looks down and away as she whispers, “I do love you. I do.”

“Then why won’t you look at me when you say it?”

“Because I don’t know how to do this,” Katniss yells. “To _be_ this,” she points to herself.

“Be what,” Peeta asks. He’s exasperated, and she’s not making any sense to him.

“Be what you _need_ ,” she admits. “You were never supposed to be... _we_ weren’t supposed to…”

“Last,” he answers for her.

“No.”

“So, Gale was telling the truth.”

“No,” Katniss says fiercely making sure to catch Peeta’s eyes with hers. “Gale just knows that I…” She looks back down and takes a deep breath. “He knows that this is hard for me.”

“So, hard that you weren’t sure if you were going to come back...two days ago,” he says skipping over the word home. You don’t repeatedly leave a place you call home the way Katniss has. This isn’t her _home_ ; he doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not that.

“What?”

“You said you weren’t sure if you were coming back.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes, you did,” Peeta says forcing himself not to rub the area over his heart. He remembers the fractured shard that slid through it. You don’t forget a hurt like that. “You said you were with Gale and you weren’t sure--”

“I was talking about you,” Katniss says, fury laces her words. “I wasn’t sure if _you_ were coming home. Why to fuck do you think I was on the couch? I can’t sleep in that bed without you. _You_ know that. You _know_ that, Peeta.”

“How do I know that,” he asks furiously. “How? You’re gone for hours and then you tell me you were with Gale all that time _talking_.”

“Funny how I made it here before you. Johanna kiss it better?” Katniss’ sneer is ugly and twisted, two words Peeta would never use to describe her and yet that’s all he sees in the curve of her lips.

“Fuck you, Katniss.”

“No, fuck you, Peeta,” she says. “Fuck you for not trusting me.”

Peeta laughs and he knows it’s uglier than her sneer. He can feel the way it burns up his throat and out his mouth. “Oh, like you trust me? You don’t tell me shit, Katniss.”

“You don’t tell me shit either, but that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.”

“At least you know what you’re getting with me, Katniss,” Peeta says. “With you, I don’t know if you’re coming or going most of the time. As of late, it’s going. Leaving me to suffer through whatever period of time you need to come back and start this sick cycle all over again.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yes, you do,” he yells. “You leave and then you come back like nothing happened with some gift as an apology that you won’t say. There’s a ghost between us, Katniss, and you can’t even see it.”

The way she freezes, the widening of her eyes, and the sharp intake of breath that sends more tears down her cheeks confirms that he’s right.

“Whoever, they were, Kat,” he says sadness dripping from his words. “Whoever they were to you, I’m not them. I can’t ever be them.”

Katniss wraps her arms around her waist. “Shut up,” she says so low that Peeta doesn’t hear her.

“I can’t compete with th--”

“I said shut up.” She screams it.

“Katniss?” She’s visibly shaking, it’s scaring him.

“You have no right. You don’t know anything. You have no idea.”

“Because you won’t let me in,” he argues.

“Because you expect too much! Just like…” she stops and shakes her head. 

“Like who, Katniss?”

She says nothing.

“Like who?”

“You’re all the same,” Katniss says staring at him. Her face has gone blank even as the evidence of her anger stains her cheeks. “Wanting someone to give you all of them as if it’s easy, and I’m the fool because I keep thinking I can do it.”

“I’m not asking you to give me all of you,” Peeta says. “I’m just asking you to give me more than bits and pieces.” 

“For nothing in return.”

“That’s not true.”

Katniss scoffs. “Yes, it is.”

“How is loving you nothing in return?”

“You don’t love me.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because you don’t trust me,” she says. 

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Katniss heads toward the door with Peeta trailing behind her.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” she says. 

He takes her hand; she snatches it back.

“No, Peeta.”

He grabs her around the waist and turns her around, burying his nose in her shoulder. “Please, don’t,” he begs. “Please.”

Her hands stay at her sides, but he can feel her body dip. He can hear the soft sniffs she takes to fight back more tears.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “I can’t do this again. She said it wouldn’t hurt, but it does. It hurts, Peeta.”  
“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Katniss runs a shaking hand through his hair. “I don’t want to hurt you either, but I am.” 

When she pulls away, Peeta takes her face between his hands and rests his forehead against hers. “Katniss, don’t do this. Please. I need you. I love you.”

She sobs then. It’s a harsh broken sound that shakes through his body, makes him want to crawl around her heart and protect it. “I love you, too,” she says softly before pulling away again. “But it’s not enough. I can’t do this. I won’t. I’m done.”

Peeta watches her walk out of his life with the gentle click of the door closing. Somehow that sound is louder than all the times Katniss has slammed the door. It reverberates through the walls and the floorboards into Peeta’s heart. He can feel the fissure cracks as he paces. Her words echo in his ears. 

_I’m done._

His breath quickens. Short bursts that he can’t catch or slow down. 

_I’m done._

Tears burn in his eyes. He wipes at them, but the tears don’t stop.

_I’m done._

“Stupid,” he mutters and smacks his fists against his temples. “So stupid.” he hits himself again. “So stupid. So fucking stupid.” 

Peeta stops pacing when he lays eyes on the bouquet of sunflowers Katniss brought him. He sees a flash of her smiling, hears the huff of her laugh. With a growl, Peeta scoops the flowers up off the table and hurls them against the wall.

The ribbon binding the flowers together loosens upon impact sending the sunflowers flying apart. Their petals litter the floor.

_Peeta tweaks the end of Katniss’ braid with his fingers. “Nice flower,” he says._

_She smiles. “Thanks.”_

_“You know they say sunflowers mean…”_

_“Happiness,” they say together._

_Katniss plucks the flower from behind her ear and leans over to place it behind Peeta’s. “Happiness,” she whispers before kissing him._

He shakes his hands out. They itch. They hurt like his heart that’s beating too fast and his breath that is rasping up from his lungs. 

_It’s not enough._

Peeta grabs the lamp on the stand and throws it against the wall with a scream. The itch lessens at the sound of breaking glass, but returns a few moments later with an intensity that blurs his vision. 

_It’s not enough._

He flips the table over and the couch. 

_You don’t trust me._

He chucks the remote at the wall knocking a painting off its hook. It’s the brightest abstract he’s ever done because she made him feel light and alive like the sunset. Katniss was orange. A new color in his life outside of Johanna’s red and Delly’s white. He never told her because he didn’t know how to explain that he’s as deep grey as storm clouds and she’s the light that manages to break through. 

_You don’t love me._

Peeta knocks over the television in his haste to knock his bookcase over spilling books across the floor. He swipes the pictures on his shelves relishing in the sound of more broken glass. 

When there’s nothing left to destroy in his living room, Peeta sinks to the floor and grabs a piece of glass. He twirls it over and over again in his hand as he stares at the sunflowers scattered by the door.

Delly finds him hours later.

Peeta hears her sigh his name as she crosses the distance between them avoiding broken pieces of furniture and glass. He keeps his eyes on the flowers.

She settles on her knees by his side and says nothing.

“Katniss left,” he says not looking at her.

Delly remains silent.

“She’s not coming back.” He turns empty eyes toward her. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” Delly says cradling his cheek in her hand and taking the piece of glass in his palm. “Nothing is wrong with you, Peet.”

Peeta kisses her.

She lets him. The press of his lips against hers is soft and brief. 

He pulls back and she gently smooths her thumb against the apple of his cheek.

“That didn’t make you feel better,” Delly says matter of factly.

Peeta shakes his head.

“We’re not those kids anymore.”

“No, we’re not,” he admits. “I just thought--”

“No, you didn’t,” she interrupts. “We were good at that. Not thinking just doing, just being. It was enough then.”

His face cracks.

“She said loving me wasn’t enough.”

“Oh, Peeta,” she says gathering him in her arms.

 _Why am I never enough_ , he thinks as Delly rubs his back and shushes him as he cries. 

_/part one._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm [asoldierwitch](http://asoldierwitch.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you'd like to drop me a line.


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